Lost Sock Drawer
by Rionarch
Summary: [drabbles,vignettes,amusement] What stories do your Lost Socks tell?
1. Drawer One

The Lost Sock Drawer

A/N – The title of these collections of drabbles came from my best friends' 'band' and seemed perfect for this. If any _Naruto_ fans out there have read Sh33p's _Catch22 (_or _Cycling Through _for _Avatar_ fans)that is where I found the inspiration for this. I honestly don't believe that there are enough introspective pieces on just random things in the HP fanfiction. Either that or we can't find them. These are just the first few, more will follow.

-

_This is it, the big on. _Wood smiled bitterly that morning when the Prophet announced perfect weather for Quidditch, among other sorts of novelties that have come to be expected with the paper. The majority of the paper laying on the table seemed to lack a serious tone- looking closer the main pieces of news were laying in the fireplace as it waiting for that cider to ignite them away.

Black robes weren't worn all that much in the Wizarding community, after all who wanted to be reminded of teachers as they were living on their lives? None the less Wood put on the drab clothing that he had become quite familiar with before a pop was heard and her disappeared out of the room.

Making his way towards the crowds of people in black as well Wood reached up to his face subconsciously adjusting something that was not there. No one noticed or cared. A mass of red hair were gathered closer towards the center of the group with McGonagall behind them looking far more composed and well…_drier_. He met her eyes and only a nod was given to acknowledge him, no one was speaking outright and little murmurs could be heard in the back of the crowd. A man whom Wood had never met before stood before them all and started speaking as if every word was killing him. Tuning him out and scanning the crowd many of the women were crying, quite a large number of people in Hogwarts robes were there as well. The most surprising face in the crowd must have been Snape but stranger things had happened and this was more then likely a show of spite or something.

_Well she got a bit shirty with me._ Wood can't say that he had many regrets in his life he though while adjusting the Quidditch gloves on both of his arms. Harry had been a teammate and quite a laugh once you accepted the dry, almost cruel sort of humor he had but this wasn't some incredible blow to himself. After several more people spoke the crowd dispersed. Wood stared on for another minute and congratulated Harry; after all he was a real team player and listened to his captain.

_I didn't care if you got thrown off you're broom so long as you catch the snitch first._

Bravo Potter. Not quite Quidditch but it worked…though for some reason I almost wish McGonagall would scream at me for putting the idea into your head in the first place. Well Potter theres nothing for you to do now other then

"rest in peace Potter, just rest."

-

"Severus! This is completely ridiculous. Are you sure you don't know the password?" Professors McGonagall and Snape loitered in front of the stone Gargoyle naming off every sweet they could imagine yet none of the passwords seemed to work.

The man in black could only grumble in annoyance as Minerva summoned for the third puppet. It had been made obvious that whenever Severus and Minerva were to have a meeting about the school's protection, Potter would undoubtedly be tagging along through their… "Fun little games". Twinkle Twinkle. Yes, the Headmaster did in fact Twinkle Twinkle. Potter's footsteps could be heard clamoring down the corridor like a hippogriff in the Hospital Wing (or rather, Moaning Myrtle on any given day would have been just as much of a good comparison).

"Potter, do you know the Headmaster's password?" Ah, straight foreword as ever Minerva. The brat shook his head and began spluttering out candies they've already tried and ones they've never heard of before.

The hour passed on with Professor McGonagall looking positively raving, Snape abandoning all posture and took to glaring at the stone gargoyle, and Mr. Potter still muttering sweets.

"Treacle tart. Butter balls. Lime Twists. Cockroach Clusters." A sigh

"Said already Potter." A Sneer

"OH for Merlin's sake!" and she's had it. Professor McGonagall marched over to the stone barricade and it flinched before she pulled her wand out. In one of the _very_ few instances (Read: More then they'll ever admit) Professor Snape and Mr. Potter may have ever agreed expression wise. Not even paying the slightest bit of attention to what she'd been saying they stared in amazement at the women who had sent both of them to detention several times yell at a statue.

"- AND IF YOU THINK I WOULD NOT CHANGE YOU INTO A PIG THEN SO HELP ME IF!" None of them paid much attention to the Gryffindor that had walked up to them, happily munching on a sock. Potter took notice first.

"Ginny? Are you…eating a sock?" After her staring time had been used up, she giggled and took another bite.

"No, it's one of Fred and George's candies. Cotton Sock Shortbread. Oh, and Harry tomorrow's practice was canceled." Not wanting to spend any more time around the loons- after all, as much as she loved Harry there were one too many bludgers dancing around his head for comfort.

Snape cradled his face in his hand before using the other one to push the frantic McGonagall away. " Cotton Sock Shortbread." He managed to grit out. The Gargoyle moved and let all three of them enter.

Only after the meeting did Dumbledore discover that as much as Snape and Harry hated each other, his Sherbet lemons would always been the ones to suffer the salt sand poured on them ever so discretely.

And that Minerva lead a life of desperation- unfortunately for them all it was not a quite one.

-

Whether Molly Weasley liked it or not, her little imps were going to get hurt in this war so when they took the time to research rather then in the frontal line dodging hexes. Merlin knows _what_ they were trying to look for and it and it annoyed her that they were asking rather questionable people rather then says her or any other responsible adult.

Honestly who would feel good about their child asking Fletcher something, disappearing for the day and returning back to head quarters with a package no one else could see? And yes they were her children, all three of them. Hermione and Harry were practically in-laws by now so Molly wouldn't consider them anything less. The other _responsible _adults in the Order agreed that it was far better for the Trio to stay here and do research.

Hestia Jones had made the mistake of asking them how the research was going. Right now the Order had them looking for a Pureblood family who had "died" out years ago, yet the last known heir was seen spotted somewhere off in the French Country side.

"Well as you may be able to see, the man's direct lineage…"

"Not at dinner! Bugger off us for a few hours will you?"

Hermione and Ron started spluttering off at the same time, drowning each other out while Harry started speaking with Hestia,

"So is that all the information you have on him?" Hestia looked a bit miffed before answering.

"Any more information? Dugald McClivert is quite well known. Surprised you haven't learned _that_ much about him." She snipped not liking the insult to her gathering work. As if by magic (Dear Merlin, they hoped no one used magic at Molly Weasley's kitchen table) The Trio had stopped eating and raced back upstairs and Harry rushing out of the door with a sack full of knuts and sickles. Molly, although mad waited until after dinner to scold them senseless.

Molly had waited until Harry got back to give them the telling off of a lifetime.

"WHAT IS THIS! YOU LEAVE MY DINNER FOR CHOCOLATE FROGS?" Molly's voice bellowed through the house and the few order members in the den gulped. Tonks pulled out her wand and headed upstairs- it wouldn't be right if Molly Weasley was known as She-Who-Killed the boy-who-lived.

Tonks laughed at Molly's technicolor face as they both watched Harry and Ron stuffing down chocolate frogs and reading off the cards in piles. Hermione had the decency to look guilty whilst Ron looked scared for his own life. Harry, the brave one spoke up,

"You'd be surprised the number of times this has worked out for us, you know."

-

To say it plain and simply, to be frank, tactless, stark in announcement and just plain rude, Ronald Weasley hated Professor Severus Snape and took any opportunity to make sure Harry did too. He was doing his best friend a favor that he was.

It had started when Charlie and Bill came home for summer holidays the year Professor Snape started teaching at Hogwarts. They complained about him non-stop,

"The man's a bat mom! A Batty old Bat!"

"He's always taking points off of Gryffendor, it's not fair!"

"We would have one the House Cup for sure if it hadn't been for him."

So The rest of the family dreaded that potions class, even Percy believed them cause Bill was his hero then. Percy went off to school and came back, Snape was still an evil git.

But then, Fred and George went with a promise, A _promise!_ To give the man hell. And what do they do the first day they get back?

"Man's bloody brilliant. Bit of a wanker but brilliant."

The Twins had gone sort of neutral when talking about Snape after Ron and Harry started Hogwarts and Ron was more then willing to believe that he'd done something weird to change Fred and George. That was it then, he'd changed them.

Hermione had tried to explain it to Ron during OWL revision.

"Well they have similar interests. If you think about it Fred and George probably use potions in all their pranks, like canary creams." She went back to her work. In the days before Harry arrived at number 12, he'd seen an almost smile on the git's face while talking in hushed whispers about some sort of potion with the twins. Merlin, they had changed.

After those occulumency Ron had seen Harry come back feeling a bit weird. He had shrugged it off at having his friend's mind raped and all was fine until Snape took the job of Defense teacher and once again Hermione had said it.

"Well he sounds like of like you Harry…" _Or_ Harry sounded like him. Call Ron selfish but he wasn't going to lose his best friend to that Deatheater.

Harry already had strained ties to himself, but if he and Snape _bonded_, Ron would become practically useless. That friendship (which would happen over Ron's dead body) would probably a very strange and abusive one and they'd both be happy with it.

Deep down Ron felt like the bloody worst person in England after Harry told them about Dumbledore's death- that ruddy basterd would _never_ be able to speak to Harry again. That was a promise.

-


	2. Drawer Two

A/N: This is kind of short, but I felt the need to post it. And come on I don't like begging but is one measly review too much to ask for?

-

There was a point when Harry confessed to Lupin that he wished he never came to Hogwarts. Harry had expected nothing from the Marauder's answer except spew about family history, boy-who-lived, what about all his friends. Lupin smiled softly and the small wrinkles on his face curved into a pleasant look and brought the teenager into the den of number twelve.

And Lupin told him the same stories he had heard when he was younger about the wizards and witches that didn't learn about there magic- some hadn't even known!

"Well one of them is about a man named Samsa…" Well Samsa hadn't known he was a wizard at all until his early twenties and not in a good way either. He had just woken up one day as a giant bug. With no magical training and not being registered with the Ministry he'd spent the rest of his days crawling around on walls until he'd let himself die alone in his cramped and dirty room.

"This one is good. You'd never imagine the trouble…" _This _guy took the cake. Err well ice rack. Some muggle had been minding his own business bringing ice out to a summer party when he apparate himself. It wasn't clean though since his liver had been spliched out next to him on some roadside in the country. The irony didn't end there, because as soon as a car drove by and got out to help the man, a ghost wandered by to do the same. Chaos ensued and that had been the last time the Bloody Baron left the school.

"The worst one has to be…" This Irish guy accidentally charmed his best friends shoes with the tarentallegra curse and a permanent sticking charm to them. Poor man died after days of dancing.

It was after he'd wiped the tears at the corner of his eyes before Harry asked Lupin,

"What about the Magical Reversal Squad? Why didn't they do anything?" That somber smile from before appeared.

"That wasn't around when those things happened. Then someone finally decided to do something about it. Now why don't we head to the kitchen before Molly kills us."

-

Borgin and Burke's shop employed a freshly out of schoolboy, Tom Riddle. They had no qualms about letting such a sweet, innocent, young man titter around objects of the dark nature. They saw him better then that and knew that he's stab them with Puck's Knife sooner then they would. No that was wrong. Knives were far too messy for him best leave it to a spell then.

Riddle had been fascinated buy all the sorts of books there already. The small library we perhaps his favorite spot to tidy up- given that he was the one normally mussing about it anyway.

"Riddle, down into the basement and that trap door. Its time to change some of the inventory." The dark haired boy sighed and brought his wand with him. The only time he'd even _seen_ the basement it was covered in dust and he didn't even walk in. With a deep breath and a single push of the door he started his premeditated attack on the dirt and grime of that wretched cellar.

"Scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify!" The last seemed to have cleared a walking space and Tom skirted through the chest and boxes with more grime on them then the pipes to the chamber, if at all possible.

"What trap door can he be talking about? Unless its hidden under a pile of dust somewhere." Scowling Tom stopped his movements to let a family of little dust bunnies move along. Apparently they were very annoyed with him for disturbing their home. He'd even killed their Aunt Fwaful.

"Riddle! Are you talking to yourself again?" In one of Tom's few moments of embarrassment he decided to never mention his pseudo-conversation with dust bunnies. Tom had stood still for a minute too long since the square of stone he was standing on gave way and hinged downwards, into a oddly clean and well kept room.

"…The Trap Door." No longer scowling he moved some of the boxes out of the way until he came across one with an odd design on it. A black five petaled flower in side of a diamond shape and sharp "M"s turned on to their side. A simple shove would have lifted the top, but Tom was a wizard and Alohamora worked better.

The trunk itself was fairly empty with only a few useless books and an ouiji board with a note attached to it explaining that he would be honored to teach someone how to truly use it.

"Divination? So useless." Tom carelessly threw the board and marker into the trunk but missed the board fell to the floor. A sudden whirring sound and the maker started to move to different letters on the board before going to "farewell" and starting all over again.

"What the blazes? I-B-A-H? No, wait. H-E-P-Z-I-B-A-H. Hepzibah? Knew this was useless and now it faulty too." Borgin came down and told Riddle to pack it away for now.

"You have to go see a Ms. Smith about goblin armor." Borgin helped him reorganize the (useless) trunks and items and the older man paused at the open one and laughed. The marker had stopped moving once he came into the room.

"Riddle, I'll give you one word of advice. I know you like all this "stuff" but stay away from this one…O' course he _may_ like you an awful lot." With a final chuckle Borgin sent the packed trunk to a different wall and charmed a note onto it.

"A. Crowley. Keep Out"

-

Hermione and Luna were complete opposites, but even Luna had to accept that books were need for some sorts of knowledge. Besides Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, Luna didn't really apply herself- to her schoolwork that is.

Today she was waiting in Diagon Alley for Ginny and Harry to show up. While Ginny remained skeptical Harry had become a firm believer in Luna something she was very grateful for. She had even given them radish charms to keep bad woogags away. Deciding to browse through Flourish and Blotts she found herself in a less frequented part of the store filled with catalogues of old magazines from the Daily Prophet to Witch Weekly and down to The Fen's Claw and some she'd never even heard of.

Luna looked on proudly at the shelf filled with _The Quibbler_, and was tempted to buy the catalogues from before she was born and couldn't read. They were around the cheapest in the store only 27 knuts. Intending on taking I through LX from that empty space between it and Potion Periodical, Luna's hand had been stopped.

Amazingly since her dark Creature Detector had not gone off ( It was the 5th tab on her necklace) she knew it wasn't any of those sorts of invisible creatures. She ran her fingertips over the blocked area only to find that it was sort of book shaped and pulled it out. When she finally opened the book the pages became solid and visible and read, The Invisible Book of Invisibility. Well! This might help her on her search for all those animals. Might get her a few more of Mrs. Weasley's toffees while she pondered self satisfyingly. As she flipped through the pages a notes fell out and did not become invisible like the rest of the book (It had come with guides that disappeared as well, she found out). Being sure to keep the book open Luna plopped on to the floor and read the loopy handwriting.

Hello there, I see you've taken an interest in either Potion Periodical or dare I say it? The Quibbler. Ah yes about the book. When I had discovered this book in an unfortunate collision between myself and the Magical Sweets shelf but enough about that. Although I already had my own secret ways to becoming invisible this book is very well written and practically a steal! You see the shopkeepers had been unable to lay a pricing spell on the books and you can just walk right out with it. I chose not to and left it for some crafty wizard or witch to use. Best of Luck.

Albus Dumbledore

Luna wasn't sure whether she was feeling hot or cold on the inside now and looked back over to the open book. Maybe she'd found Harry's present a little early this year.

-

If you were to ask Nelville Longbottom or any other person such as him what Malfoy's ideal world would be, it'd come out completely wrong.

They'd say that the Weasleys would be imprisoned, Dumbledore would be out of office and ashamed, Hermione and her family would under go torture, and Harry would be dead with his body for all to see. Those who go into a greater detail might say something about how he'd marry Pansy Parkinson and have pureblood kids.

Hermione scoffs at the conversation in the Common Room, Ron whole heartily puts in his own input about the Git and Harry stays quite thinking. Harry probably had it better grasped then anyone else.

In Malfoy's perfect world he'd never take pleasure from seeing Hermione tortured since he'd never meet her. All the muggleborns in Hogwarts would be non existent or at least in another school separated from the Wizarding community until they're children can be considered pureblooded enough.

The Weasley's would need not be tortured because they'd be a real pureblood family. Probably the only radical change would be Ron's hot temperament and Arthur and Molly's income. Fred, George, and Charlie never bothered themselves with the nonsense, Percy was respectable enough in the Ministry and Ginny and Bill were just too _cool_ not to be purebloods. Draco might have been a friend with any one of them.

Ron and he would still find ways to annoy and insult each other though.

Dumbledore would be out of office. Why? Because in a world of purebloods you can not be that manipulative and not get the end of it somehow. He'd still be known as a crazy old coot, but "the fool" would only be in affection.

Its hard to say what would change about Harry. Lily Evens might have been born Lily Black in another world, closer to Bellatrix then Narcissa or Andromaeda and had fun teasing Sirius and James when he came to visit.

Harry's eyes might have not have been green. James Potter married some nice pure blood girl who managed to dazzle his mind while Lily was off getting weaned into the magical world over years.

Once again, Harry's failure is in evaluating himself. Draco hears the last bits of the conversation after it moved to the library and thought of his own answers. True enough he was bit harsher on the muggleborns then Harry imagines, but it was generally spot on.

Draco likes to think that even though Lily Evans was a mudblood, she was good enough to be treated with a respect that a few Deatheaters paid to her, and that she could have married James Potter and had Harry. Harry could stay the same, just with a little less naïveté to the real world of purebloods.

Ginny walked up to Harry's seat on the seat in the library and literally threw herself on him before granting him a knowing smirk. Malfoy saw that smirk and had to change his mind.

Ginny would be from a different pureblood family altogether. Just so Draco didn't have to fight with one of her brothers for the spot of best man. Fawcett would be his date of course, not Pansy. Definitely not Pansy.

-


	3. Drawer Three

A/N : Well I thought that since the last chapter was too kind and easy read, this one will definitely be darker and contain far more gore. And please would a review be too much to ask for? I'm hoping for flames by this point.

-

Popping joints and a scream were sounds that _were not_ heard by the village just a hillside away from the small house next to the woods. Its walls were stone and very out of fashion though left standing. The screaming sounds continued and were stopped by the shattering of glass. Metal scraps made a sudden noise before one again the house was quite. Out of the door stepped a young woman of about twenty-five with fire red hair and dark drown eyes.

"Aye, be done with yew. Noting but a monster yew are. Rowt there fo' all sats good for yew." And the women tossed a leather satchel filled with a few necessities. One last look to the strangely calm house was sent before she walked won to the village and never looked back once. That moon that lit the sky was full and bright enough to guide her to the village without the need of a torch or wand.

No howls or screams were heard from that house again, not anything for the five years since Angi had left her son chained to the wall with a silencing spell over the entire property. Angi had another child by another villager- who like her first one, had died of no known reason and seemed frightened to death but the superstitious townsfolk blamed the moon as they always had and always would have. Angi died only months later leaving a four-year-old girl with her stock of red hair behind and a series of now broken spells.

Grodan was as calm as any starved child would be when he felt the chains just disappear off of his arms. The bite mark on his leg has closed itself years ago but was a bright red and raw as if it had been yesterday. He was free and he was _hungry_, and he hated that bitch of a mother. A rage that came with the bright moonlight (Or at least what he could have seen from the small window) took over him and his body. Grodan was maniacally natural for a child, but barely looked the part. Through his dark hair were gray streaks from the monthly cycle.

Before that magic tingle even left from the walls he was running out into the village following that _delightful_ scent of snake dirt. Grodan stopped in front of a dark house where he last smelt his mother. The pale skeletal hand was of no use to knock so he shuffled himself against the door. Angi's daughter was unfortunately the one to answer the door to the sick looking Grodan and his dead brown eyes. She watched as they focused on her red hair, which was out of its hat, before taking another glance at his eyes and his teeth, which were too close. Really too close. She didn't even have enough time to scream when she found out they were sharp too.

Grodan bit into the face of his little mother like a fire to wood, just destroying it. Not even cringing when he felt her skull crush in his grip or the feel of his teeth scraping on her cheekbones. The iron taste of her blood mixed with the sweat and dirt on the skin as he ate the disgusting flesh.

An old man heard the commotion and ran outside with a broom. His face went stiff and the wrinkles sagging, his skin darkened his face despite the almost full moon in the sky. "What are you doing you Fenrirish beast?!" The old man didn't say much more after Grodan bit him in the neck and left him to die with an ear splitting scream. Grodan curled into a ball recovering long enough for the rest of the villagers to come out of their homes and see the two dead bodies. Murmurs of "Who" or "What was it" could be heard but no distinct voice came out and said it. In his half starved, half-lunatical insanity Grodan whispered what the old man had called him.

"Fenrir….Fenrir….Fen.." Grodan started growling again and made a lunge to the villagers. A young man from the crowd pulled out a stick and shouted some gibberish and Grodan fell to his knees before blacking out. In the induced sleep from the wizard Grodan kept on mumbling "Fenrir" almost obsessively.

-

"Bella, Sirius you don't think we'll get in trouble, do you?" Narcissa Black followed her sister and her cousin with a doxy trapped into a jar. Bellatrix wore some sort of green tunic and a cap hiding her hair. Sirius would have done it but he had to keep the charm up and he was better at it then her- and Narcissa was too chicken to do it.

"Cissa, its Peter now! Bella is Peter, get it?" Sirius went to the window and started throwing little pebble to the house across from them, the muggles couldn't see them though. "Besides its only the second floor, it can't hurt them that much. We fall much higher then this all the time." Bellatrix hoped onto the window when a small boy about a year or two younger then them looked out the window.

"Sirius you'd better not drop me." And she jumped out of the window like they'd been practicing. Sirius pulled out the practice wand his parents had gave him and whispered _Wingarduim Leviosa _floating Bellatrix around as if she were flying on her own. He dragged her over to by the window with the little kid. The child stared at her.

"Peter Pan! You are real!" For show Bella and Sirius made her do a few flips around. The kid started talking again once the broke, "Where's Tinkerbell?" Because every kid knew that you need faith, trust, and pixie dust to fly.

Sirius elbowed Narcissa. "Yes, where is Tinkerbell?" The blond sighed and preformed the leg locker on the doxy and changed it to a yellow-green color. She then started levitating it around as Sirius was doing to Bella.

"Why there she is! Come on out, don't you want to fly with me?" Bella finally spoke to the boy and he nodded enthusiastically. "Just remember, Faith, trust, and…Tink?"

Narcissa levitated the doxy over to the boy and slammed it against him and the "pixie dust" which was more like flour they'd snuck out of the kitchen, dipped all over him. Him jumped out the second floor window and landed like a rock on the ground with a sick crunch. Narcissa let the doxy good and Sirius brought Bellatrix back into the house, where they both started laughing with tears in their eyes. Narcissa looked worried for a few minutes and smacked them both on the head.

"You're so stupid! I told you this wasn't a good idea. Is the kid okay?" The trio stayed quite and heard the little kid's cries and sobbing and his parents running out of the house to get him. Still giggling Sirius and Bella started back into their rooms.

"He's fine, it was only about twenty feet." Sirius went into Regulus's room to see if he was woken up by all their fun while Bella dragged Narcissa back into their guestroom.

By Sirius' fourth year at Hogwarts he knew his choice in the matter of muggles and that they weren't a lesser people. Bellatrix did not agree with him at all but they still shared the same vindictive humor. Narcissa cleared away from Sirius all together.

The worst was for Alan Gred, who as a first year, recognized Bellatrix as "Peter Pan" and Sirius lived with the guilt when he saw the kid's mangled arm.

-

Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood had a constant professional relationship. In all of their years at Hogwarts they occasionally paired with one another with a few quite jokes and serious studying. Percy never had the "best friend" but if he had to choose someone it would be Oliver- from pure being there-ness.

Even during the Ministry's campaign to smear Potter and Dumbledore they had the occasional superficial chat, pretending that Percy wasn't a stuck up git and that Oliver actually cared about the world beyond Quidditch season.

Percy Weasley was a Deatheater. He didn't have _that_ much to hate Harry for, but that annoyance was there but more then nothing Percy joined because he doubted Potter and his family. They could barely scrape by in school, how were they to manage defeating Tom Riddle, a Prefect who gained more power then any other?

His relatives nearly found out in a close call when he was trying to reconnect with them on orders. At the last moment before the Twins stripped of his clothes to say _hello_, Oliver came and scooped him to the Leaky Cauldron for a chat. Oliver did not even bother to look concerned at how panicked Percy looked. The Quidditch player looked around him before leaning close to Percy's ear.

"No need to blow your cover yet. I'm guessing _he_ asked you to do it?" Barely above a course whisper and it had Percy floundering until Oliver pulled down the gloves he was trying to break in.

Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood had a constant professional relationship, and might some day share a cell in Azkaban for being supporters of the Darklord.

-

Peering over his book notes on today's curse, Snape watched fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffendors pour and chatter among themselves before the bell rang and he started taking points. In the corner of his eye Lovegood appeared in her entirely odd glory and skip over to the Weasley girl (Whom he knew was all of The Twin's brilliance and Molly's deposition).

"Ginny, I need you r help to get ready for Slughorn's Christmas Party." Luna said all of this staring through her friend and twisting a few of the beads on her newest _protectionary bracelet against the Narflaks or other nonsense like that_. He'd made the mistake of trying to mock her and failed.

"That's great! Who invited you?" Weasley seemed pleased that the girl was going and Snape lowered his notes a bit lower wondering who would take Loony Lovegood to a party like that.

"Harry. I asked him if I should dye my eyebrow too but he said not to worry. Do you think he'll be wearing Gryffendor color or..?" Potter?! Thank god the notes hid his face from the students that dared to come to class early. The Weasley girl had no such defense.

"What? I'm sorry did you say Harry asked _you?"_ Oh dear Merlin she was like Molly. She might make a good Deatheater someday, if that absolute rage on her face said anything about it. Lovegood of course took no notice.

"Isn't it great? Harry is one of the nicer boys in Gryffendor. Your brother not so much." And Lovegood sat down and stared off into space occasionally drawing a lightning bolt through a moon like the currency. Weasley girl stood there open mouth gaping for a few minutes and stared at Luna. Without even blinking she looked herself over and stared at Lovegood once again.

_Really Potter. Are you trying to annoy the Weasley clan?_

And days later at the actual party Lovegood started talking about a Rotfang conspiracy. And Potter laughed along with Lovegood.

_That_ night cemented what the few people who knew Harry somewhat well (The Quidditch Team, The Trio and co, The Order, and Malfoy).

His head bobbled around from a few loose screws, but he wasn't the only bobblehead in the bunch. Potter has officially reserved his spot in St. Mungos. And all Snape could think about was what would happen to their poor kids. They didn't stand a chance really.

-


End file.
